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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28424517">I Don't Think So</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevenRuby/pseuds/SevenRuby'>SevenRuby</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Attempted Dom/sub relationship, F/M, Inexperienced Dom, Relationship Woes, Spanking, Young Dean Winchester, kind of, strong female character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:07:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,418</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28424517</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevenRuby/pseuds/SevenRuby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wants to try spanking.  His girl, not so much.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dean/Her, Dean/Original Female Character, Dean/She, Dean/reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Don't Think So</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, when this popped into my head, I pictured a young Dean, in his early 20s, before Sam took off for Stanford.  My head canon has put them in a small town where Sam can finish high school.  Dean has a cramped, crappy apartment, and is exploring his independence while his dad is doing solo hunts.  Dean has started experimenting with the dom/sub relationship dynamic but hasn’t had much experience nor has anyone mentored him in proper etiquette.  He’s met a young lady, and he's tumbled hard, but she is more mature, even if they are the same age.  She takes a realistic look at their relationship and makes the needed decisions.</p><p>I chose not to use (Y/N) in this story, only referring to the female character as 'she' and 'her.'</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Pie!”  She moves to stand up, and he presses her back down to the desk.</p><p>“Seriously?  I spanked you ONCE.  You haven’t even given it a chance!”  He slips his hand between her legs and finds a little slickness.  “You’re getting wet.  I think secretly you do like this.”  He gives her ass another open-handed smack to test her boundaries.  “Count!”</p><p>“PIE, god-damn it!” she yells and works to stand up again.  “I may be ‘wet’ as you put it, but it’s not from the spanking.  It’s from being bent over and exposed and all the fondling you’ve done.  The spanking is making me irritated and angry.  LET ME UP!  What’s the use of a safe word if you don’t honor it?”  She continues to push against the hand between her shoulder blades.  “Stop!  I need you to stop right now.”</p><p>His gaze feels heavy on her skin as he backs away.  She stands up and adjusts her skirt and blouse, bending down to tug her panties back into place.</p><p>She thought she would be able to handle this, wanting to be open to new things.  But when she found herself bent over the desk, face down on the blotter, hands white knuckling the wooden edge, she knew this would be a hard no.  Convincing him of that fact was proving harder than she thought.  Angry tears leaked from her eyes as thoughts of her stepfather invaded her mind. Punishments for the slightest infraction were heaped upon her butt; she was made to find the thin switches the man used to torment her as she was growing up.  She’s supremely lucky the man was so skilled with whipping (an horrific small favor, indeed), otherwise her ass would be riddled with scars.  Deciding to be open with him, she tells him about her experience with spanking as a child and her aversion to it now.</p><p>Her boyfriend pouts as he looks at her from a few feet away.  “Okay.  So, spanking is off the table.”  He continues to look at her, contemplating what he can suggest next, convinced he can get her to embrace this lifestyle he so recently found and adores.</p><p>She looks at him and says firmly, “Kinks are off the table.  And the desk.  And any other surface.”</p><p> </p><p>aAaAaAaAaA</p><p> </p><p>“Good girl!” he coos as she moans, his hand rubbing and tweaking her nipple as he nibbles her neck.</p><p>She opens her eyes and gives him an incredulous look, tensing as she sits up and moves away from him.</p><p>“What?” he asks, confused.</p><p>“Did you just call me a good girl?  Really?” she looks at him in disappointment as she crosses her arms over her bare chest.</p><p>“What’s wrong with telling you you’re being good?  Lots of women…people…love being praised.”</p><p>“Where are you getting this information?”  She mutters almost to herself.  Pulling herself back into the moment, she addresses him firmly,  “I find being called a 'good girl' demeaning, so don’t do it again.” She replies, tone scathing.  “It puts me in the same category as a pet, a dog.  ‘Sit, stay.  Good girl.’”  Over exaggerated praise falls from her lips as she mimics her boyfriend.</p><p>“Oh, come on, honey.  That’s not how it’s meant…” he tapers off as he sees the fed up look on her face.</p><p>“Really?  Think back.  Recall your tone when you said it.”  She watches him with narrowed eyes.</p><p>He huffs, exacerbated, realizing it did sound like he was talking to a dog.  Ironically, he doesn’t even like dogs.  He backpedals, trying to get her to change her mind.  “Sweetheart, it’s not a bad thing.  I love the sounds you make, and I just want to encourage you to keep making them.  I love giving you praise.”</p><p>“Well, I don’t have a praise kink.  Find a different, less demeaning way.”</p><p>“Honey…it’s my job to make you feel good…to pull as much pleasure from you as I can…” </p><p>“Wait, stop.  You think this is a <em>job</em>?  This is not a <em>job</em>.  We should be doing this because we have feelings for each other.  I will tell you this One. Last. Time.  Stop trying to Dom me.  It does nothing for me.  I get <em>no</em> pleasure from it.  It annoys me and takes me out of the moment.  Next time you do it, I’m done.”</p><p>“What do you mean, you’re done?”</p><p>“Just that.  We start to have sex, you go all Dom, I get pulled from the mood, we get in an argument.  I don’t want to do this anymore.” She pauses to contemplate her next statement.  “If you need to Dom so bad, maybe you should start looking for an actual sub to play with.  I cannot, will not, be a sub for you.  It’s not in my nature.  I don’t want pain with sex, I don’t want to be ordered around in the bedroom.  I don’t want you to bring me to the brink of pleasure and then take it all away.  I don’t feel I should have to ask for permission to climax and I expect to be an equal partner when it comes to intimacy.  Think about it, please.”  She looks at him to see if he will respond.  He says nothing, just looks at her as if trying to figure how to change her mind.  She shakes her head at his non-response.  “Well, I’m no longer feeling this and gonna head home.  I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”</p><p>He looks at her dumbfounded as she gets up to leave.  “But what about this?”  He gestures to his raging hard-on.  Even after the length of their conversation, he hasn’t flagged one bit.</p><p>She huffs at how selfish that statement is and just waves dismissively as she finds her clothes and gets dressed.  “Seriously?  That’s what you took away from this?  Well, guess you’ll have to take care of it yourself…or…let’s turn the tables, shall we?  How would you like it if I ordered you not to touch yourself for the next 24 hours?”</p><p>“What?  No.”  He scoffs at her suggestion.  “That’s not how this works.  I’m the Dom, not the sub.  I’m not a switch.” </p><p>She lets out a short laugh, knowing that would be his response.  “Fine.  Have a nice night.”  Opening the bedroom door, she starts to walk out.  Deep down, she knows he hasn’t listened to a word she’s said.  Even though he says he wants to give her pleasure, it’s really all about him.</p><p>Desperate, he barks out, “STOP.”  He really wants her to get naked again and come back to bed.</p><p>Shaking her head, she continues to the front door.  He scrambles to get free of the bedsheets and follows after her, rigid penis bouncing in his hurry to reach the door before she does.</p><p> </p><p>AaAaAaAaAa</p><p>In the living room, she searches for her jacket, shoes, and purse.  Spotting them in a pile near the couch, she makes short work of donning the jacket and slinging her purse on her shoulder as she slips her pumps on.</p><p>He races into the room as she is searching for her keys.  Grasping them from the bottom of her purse, she moves to the door only to find him and his penis blocking her exit.</p><p>“Sweetheart don’t leave.  I’ll do better.”  He promises.  “I won’t call you a good girl anymore.”</p><p>“No, you won’t.”  She pauses and just looks at him and recognizes it’s over.  “I don’t think this is going to work between us, so I’m going.  It was fun.  At times.”</p><p>“What?  NO!  Don’t go.  I love you!”  He pleads.</p><p>“Do you?  Really?  Or is that just the little brain talking?”  She nods her head, gesturing to his still impressive erection.  She stares him down, eyes hooded.  “I need you to move.  Seriously.”  Her toe is tapping in irritation, and she ends up crossing her arms over her chest while he contemplates what went wrong this evening.  “Dean.  Move.”</p><p>Realizing the inevitable, he moves away from the door, “I do love you.  Please remember that.”</p><p>She relaxes and gives him a sad yet fond look.  “I will.  But we just won’t work.  I know they say opposites attract, but I think we are just <em>too</em> different.”  She gives him a half hug, then quickly leaves the apartment without looking back. </p><p>He moves to the window to watch her get in her car, regretting the way he handled things, knowing he’ll never see her again.  He hopes she has a good life. </p>
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